No one ever sees me, because no one ever thinks to. It's been the same forever, even when I was alive and human. I was just a lowly servant.

But now? Now I am the wind. And invisible as I am, I'm more powerful then any mere mortal could ever imagine. I'm the gusts that steal important papers and yank kites away from small children, strong torrents of destruction, tearing apart buildings and creating waves so high they destroy entire towns. Yet I am also whistles and whoops, breezes that form cool hands and quick kisses.

Jack comes into the world small and scared, and I am happy to answer his cry for help. He waves his cane and I appear, and then I dump him into a tree, because isn't higher ground always an advantage? And then I drop him back down on the ground when he protests his precarious position, up in the tree tops. I swirl around him, and whistle happily when he laughs, and bounce the snowflakes he creates back and forth on my breezes, only to be rewarded by more laughter as he hurries to create more. He's new to it all, every single thing around him amazes him, and for now he is filled with more wonder then even Santa Claus.

Yet over the next hundred years, the wonder fades. He lurches about, catches his cue quickly and spreads his winter, and gazes up at the moon at night. And still I'm always sweeping around him, doing all my other duties almost subconsciously in my thrill of his presence. I barely notice the storms I cause and the kites I steal, caught up in the wonder of ruffling his white hair with my invisible fingertips and lifting him high above the world that can't see him. Jack is, to humans, just as invisible as I am.

Another century passes, and Jack's head droops more and more with each passing year. I carry him with more and more faithfulness, and reveal myself in the form of refreshing caresses and glimpses of long silver hair in the breeze. He leans on me, flies in my arms just for fun, creates snow just for me to play with, and sometimes talks to me instead of the moon.

"Guess you're my only company, huh?" He asks, and I blow my cool breath against the nape of his neck, and rush past him to create a glorious spray of barely saline salt water below us, we're in the cold air over the Baltic sea.

"You're so strong," He compliments me, and I lift him high into the stormy clouds above Alaska to prove him right.

"Please don't leave me!" He whimpers, and I waft around him, carry him carefully to the treetops of Greenland on a particularly cold night when the Moon remains silent as ever, and he's particularly lonely. I let my silver hair brush over his cheek, just barely, and whisper nonsensical and unintelligible sounds to him, rustle leaves, and lull him to a fitful sleep.

Here approacheth the third century, and Jack laughs now more for the sake of laughing rather then any genuine amusement. I carry him to the North Pole to break into North's workshop, and carry him away when he fails, fanatic in my attention and wuthering in my strength. I take his hands and lift him higher on the weekends, and scatter his snowflakes in the hopes that someone will notice how beautiful they are, and notice him. My efforts succeed, and the next weekend I can see a spot of darkness below us.

I waft anxiously around him when he cries out in his sleep, and watch the golden eyes that haunt his favorite clearing with loyal abandon. The attention of the Shadows is both welcome and a cause for wariness, and I guard him zealously while also neglecting to chase them away. Any attention for Jack is good, even if he doesn't know about it. He cannot ever be forgotten completely, not if I have anything to saw about it.

I am wary of the Guardians, the way they kidnap him and drag him through the magic portal in a way I cannot follow, and I have to hunt him down at the Pole, where I come just in time to be of his aid and push them all away, and whoop my amusement as they are covered in frost.

And then I mourn when he accepts them, because as the nights pass and he comes to once again believe in the Moon, he ceases to talk to me in favor of conversing with them instead.

I almost sing with eagerness when Pitch finds him by the crevasse. I recognize the golden eyes; they've watched him from the darkness before, they are the ones that saw his snowflakes and noticed. This King of Shadows is more loyal to Jack the the Guardians have been, even if nowhere near to my own devotion. He truly wants for Jack to thrive, even if he is also prepared to manipulate him to fit his own agendas. Nonetheless, Pitch will soon learn that he will face my wrath if he tries, but if only Jack will accept his offer in the first place... but instead, I end up having to haul him out of the crevasse; he has refused the offer, and I have changed my mind about Pitch. The King will suffer my revenge the next time we meet on the battlefield.

I take Jack to the Guardians, even though I regret my lost chance at once again being the center of his world, spoiled by his stubbornness and Pitch's temper.

I do indeed remain loyal, and help him to defeat the golden eyes that used to watch over him in his sleep, just like I did. When there is only one element wafting around him, only me, I remain satisfied, even though he still neglects me in favor of the children he now watches. I try to play to his new whims, and lift these children's kites higher then any others and never steal them, and I kiss their cheeks like I kiss his, but he ignores my efforts; he is too distracted by the woman with the feathers, too distracted with his beating heart and her shiny white smile.

I continue to bless him, to run my hands through his hair and show him my own silver locks, but he no longer asks me to carry him places; he uses the snow globe portals and the underground burrows, travel ways where I cannot reach him. I always find him again though, and eagerly await his commands. I try harder and harder to make his snow flurries more magnificent, but he has stopped laughing for them, and now laughs for other reasons, and even worse, this laughter seems more genuine then the laughter he ever showed me, even at the beginning.

It is when he one day commands me to only blow shut a door that I realize I have once more gained and lost my status as servant, and become something so much worse: I am a slave, and an unneeded one at that.

Plot bunny, meet my poor unfortunate readers whom I probably tortured with this experience. Readers to whom I am very very much, horrible sorry, meet plot bunny. Please don't hate each other too much, yava?

Basically, this took me less then an hour and is extremely questionable, but I don't want to go back and edit it because I'm tired, so maybe later, but for now, here, have some not quite ideal content. Thanks for reading it, and byeeeeeee!